It Gets Better
by Fang lover23
Summary: It's all become too much. The pressure, the slander. He needs a way out. But he doesn't know that someone out there still loves him...can he be saved before he makes the biggest mistake of his young life? Oneshot.   NOH8/ItGetsBetter


**So, in light of recent gay teen suicides, I've decided to write a fic about it. I am all for gay rights (even though there shouldn't be a battle over them anyway), and I hate people who can't at least **_**accept**_** someone's sexuality. It gets me SO angry.**

**This fic is to let people know that no matter what, suicide is NOT the answer. Life is worth living, especially because there IS someone out there who cares about you.**

**I'm gonna say this is a very strong 'T' rating. Mostly for some very crude language. I apologize in advance if it offends anyone; I hate some of these words with a passion, but I'm using them to make a point, not slander.**

* * *

He was running; that much he knew.

He didn't know where, so he kept running wherever his legs carried him. He didn't care anymore; nothing mattered anymore.

Life didn't matter.

The only sense of relief he felt was the weight in his pocket: his way out.

The nineteen-year-old kept his pace, tears streaming down his face. People stared, but he was so out of it, he didn't even register their hurtful glances. He heard the dull echo of wood under his feet and realized he was at the pier. This made his situation a little easier.

Though his vision was blurred by tears, he was able to stop just at the edge of the pier. There wasn't a living soul within sight. _Good_, he thought bitterly. _No one needs to see my self-destruction. No one cares about me anyway. I may have 'the face,' but I'm invisible in this beautiful town._

He hated this town. Yes, it had been _his_ dream that had brought them all out here. Yes, it was where he truly belonged. But the last few months had been complete and utter hell for him: the constant teasing, the never-ending ridicule, having to hide out in his own apartment. It was _torture_.

The guys had told him to ignore it; they knew the taunting wouldn't go away anytime soon, so all they could do was wait it out and be there for each other.

And they did. Almost fifteen years of friendship couldn't be broken by _any_ obstacle they could face in Hollywood.

However, two months before this moment now, a downward spiral had begun for the hazel-eyed singer. He kept it to himself, so as not to worry his friends. They were _extremely_ perceptive when it came to emotions, but the tallest pop star had gained more acting experience from Camille than anyone realized.

Most of the fans had stayed loyal. They accepted him when he and his friends first came out here, so why should they change their minds over one innocent piece of news?

But some did. Not a lot, but enough to put a dent in BTR's c.d. sales. Griffin had been sympathetic for once; he knew nothing would change unless he replaced James. But replacing him meant losing 'the face.' The Face was a major reason as to why Big Time Rush was so popular. Griffin had come to really like the boys, so he had swallowed his pride and kept the 'problem' member.

The newfound realization that Griffin didn't want to replace him left the chestnut-haired beauty in higher spirits. But the derogatory and slandering comments continued in wake of his announcement, and there had been violence, too.

The boys had all been attacked for just associating with the pretty boy, although said boy got the worst treatment. Lower sales, they could deal with, but once one of them got hurt, that was where they drew the line. At a concert in Iowa, some crazed 'fan' had thrown a full glass beer bottle at the stage, shattering as it hit James in the head. They had had to stop the show to take him to hospital where he stayed for two days to get stitches and recover from a mild concussion.

The door of their apartment had been defaced, spray painted, and carved ('FAG' and 'HOMO' being some of the numerous words). That was when they moved out. Gustavo had actually given them one of his (smaller) mansions in sympathy- he really did care for them like sons as well, and was pained every time he saw them hurt. Katie and Mrs. Knight stayed with them, also.

James had received innumerable death threats. No one had carried out anything, but his sense of self-esteem had taken a nose dive.

And it didn't help him that the love of his life wouldn't ever love him back.

He was sobbing uncontrollably now. Bringing back all these less-than-fond memories of his new life made everything hurt more. Or maybe it left him so numb that he was wishing for waves of burning pain to overcome him.

Everything had been going fantastically; now he had nothing left. Everything had been taken away from him. Nothing was worth it anymore.

The singer took the object in question out of his jacket pocket and weighed it in his hand. The hard metal was gleaming and cold, but seemed to radiate heat like an old acquaintance. This stuff had been happening a _lot_ lately. But what was he now but another face in the crowd?

Raising his arm, James placed the tip of the revolver to his temple. This was no game of Russian Roulette- there were six bullets; there was no going back now.

He took a deep breath as one last thought crossed his mind.

_I love you…_

And he pulled the trigger.

* * *

Kendall, Logan, and Carlos sat on the couch watching the TV. Kendall's mother had taken his younger sister out for an audition that afternoon. They wouldn't be back until later that night.

But why was the blonde getting a nervous, queasy flutter in his stomach? They were all here, weren't they?

James! James wasn't there. _But wait. Didn't he say something about getting some more 'Cuda products? Yeah, that's it_, Kendall reassured himself. _He said he'd be back in a little while_. Nah, James knew his way around the city. He'd be fine.

Logan, sensing Kendall's unease, put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You okay, man?"

Kendall had jumped slightly at the unexpected contact, lost in his own world, not remembering that he wasn't alone. "Oh, yeah. I'm okay, I guess."

"You _guess_?" Carlos interjected.

"Yeah, Ken," Logan continued. "You look like you're gonna be sick. Are you _sure_ you're okay?" He pressed the back of his hand to the blonde's forehead, but pulled it away when he sensed no sign of a fever.

Kendall shifted on his couch cushion. "Guys, I feel fine! Physically, anyway," he added, seeing their incredulous glares. "I haven't done anything, but I feel as though…as though I wasn't _there_ for something. I'm the leader, so I feel like I've failed with my protective nature. Something's off, but I don't know _what_." He ran his hand through his hair roughly. "It's so _frustrating_!"

Carlos and Logan exchanged sympathetic looks. The genius turned back to Kendall. "Why don't you go chill in the park? Get some fresh air, clear your head. We'll call you if anything comes up."

Kendall nodded slowly, not really paying attention; he stood up and headed for the door. "I'll call you when I'm on my way home," he called over his shoulder as he opened and closed the door of the small mansion.

The nearest park was about twelve blocks, so the bushy-eye-browed teen had quite a walk, but more time to think. What was the nagging feeling at the back of his mind?

It was Sunday, so the streets near the boys' house were nearly empty despite the warm sunshine shining down. The sun was set low in the sky because it was about five o'clock in the afternoon. The warmth flowing down and the cool breeze blowing by was very calming for Kendall. He continued walking along until his feet hit the soft, lush green grass of the park. He strolled over to a nearby bench and lowered himself onto it.

Several families were scattered around, enjoying the last free moments of the weekend. Kendall smiled when he saw a mother twirling her young son around by his arms. It was a peaceful afternoon, and the teen felt at ease.

A figure at the far end of the park caught his attention several minutes later. It looked very familiar…

Intrigued, Kendall watched the man inconspicuously. The tall somebody pulled out his phone and began to type a message, it seemed, onto his keypad. His shaggy hair was hiding his face, preventing Kendall from identifying him, but it looked as though his shoulders were shaking with silent sobs.

The blond singer stood up, his protective nature kicking in. he looked on as the man put his phone away, pushing off of the tree he had been leaning on. Kendall sped up his pace, but stopped when he registered his phone vibrating in his pocket. Pulling it out, he opened the text message. It was from James; it said only one word.

_Goodbye_.

Kendall almost slapped himself. Why hadn't he recognized the curtain of keep chestnut hair he'd known since he was a kindergartener?

"James!" he called after his best friend from across the park. He took off running. "James! Wait up!"

Myriad questions flowed into Kendall's brain: Why wasn't James at the 'Cuda store? Why had he lied? He hadn't had any bags with him, so he hadn't gone anywhere close to the mall.

What did he mean by 'Goodbye'?

The lanky teen shoved his phone shut, put it away, and bolted after his best friend.

The chase brought Kendall into downtown. He could barely keep track of James over the heads of all the Los Angel-ites. It didn't help that James seemed to be running just as fast as him, except James was more determined to get through the crowd. He shoved past people without apologies and kept his head down.

Now the blond was getting frustrated. _Where_ was James leading him?

The answer came when the throng of people dispersed near the piers. Kendall kept shouting at his buddy, but James didn't seem to hear him. _Maybe he doesn't want to be followed_, Kendall realized.

So he hung back, observing his band mate to see what he was actually doing.

James ran down an abandoned pier. There was no sign of any people around besides the two boys. Kendall watched in antsy worry as James collapsed to his knees, sobbing intensely. It was taking all of Kendall's self-restraint, and more, to not flock to James' aid. What could've _possibly_ been wrong with him to make him act this way?

From his hiding spot behind a pillar on the pier, Kendall glimpsed his friend pull something out of his jacket pocket. He was unable to see what it was, however, for James' back was facing him. The blonde pop star furrowed his eyebrows in bewilderment, but his expression changed once he saw the gleam of metal in James' hand.

He couldn't wait any longer. Eyes wide, heart beating a tattoo in his ribcage, breaths quick and heavy, Kendall made a beeline for his apparently-suicidal roommate. Thanks to the sudden onslaught of adrenaline, he ran faster than he ever had in his life; now he was finally grateful for the ten years of brutal hockey practice. His long, lean, wiry legs screamed in protest as he galloped down the worn-down wood boards. Tears began to blur his vision; Kendall was panic-stricken and terrified, but he blinked away the wetness and raced on.

"JAAAAAMES!"

Somehow James didn't hear him holler. The gun was still pressed to his head, finger barely squeezing the trigger.

Now Kendall was weeping hysterically. _Oh god_, he only hoped he could reach his friend in time. "JAMES!"

James pulled the trigger…

…just as a wall of flesh and bones slammed into him. Pain erupted in his head, but on the opposite side of where the revolver had been.

The bullet fired, but missed the shaggy-haired teen's head. His eardrums rang from the deafening bang that had gone off beside him. Too exhausted to try to buck the body off of him, he slowly rolled himself over; Kendall stared down at him, pinning James' arms beneath his own. His cheeks were red and tear-tracked and he was shaking uncontrollably.

"What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?" Kendall screamed at his band mate below him. "What the _hell_ were you thinking? Don't you know we all _love_ you? We would ALL die if you died! What could possibly drive you to this? Huh? Please, James. Let me in!" He had screamed himself hoarse, sparkling tears flowing freely from his anguish-filled emerald eyes.

James stayed silent; his voice stopped functioning properly. A wave of penitence washed over him and he finally lost it. He wailed in regret, a fresh round of waterworks cascading down his smooth face.

Kendall wasted no time and gathered him up into a hug, holding him as close to his chest as physically possible. He _needed_ James to know he cared, that someone was here for him. The brunette buried his face into his savior's shoulder, mumbled apologies spilling from his lips.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm SORRY!"

Kendall just held his broken friend tighter, crying harder as he felt his t-shirt soak with James' tears. He placed a hand on the back of the pretty boy's head and whispered sweet nothings in his ear. "It's okay. You're safe now; I'm here…you're okay." He gently rocked his upper body back and forth soothingly, cradling James in his arms.

Kendall let James cry himself dry. Twenty minutes of wordless comfort passed, and James sniffled and lifted his head away from Kendall's chest. Looking down, he saw that he had stained the whole left side of the blonde's shirt with his salty tears.

"Kendall, your shirt…"

Kendall cupped James' face in his hands, tilting the boy's chin upward. "That means nothing, James. Shirts can be replaced…but _you_ can't." His jaw was tense in shock, making his voice sound harsh, but his eyes showed nothing but compassion and concern. He blinked and several shimmering droplets traveled down his rosy cheeks. "Please, James, you can tell me _anything_. Why were just about to blow your brains out?"

The teen in his arms flinched visibly at his friend's choice of words. Slumping back into Kendall's shoulder, James let out a deep sigh, and gripped the blonde's upper arms in desperation. "It's just…_everything_!"

"…I don't understand-"

James snapped his head up to glare at Kendall. "Everybody hates me! Have you not been paying attention for the last six months? Nobody cares about me anymore! I'm not being selfish, whatever you may think, because it's _true_. Nobody wants to have anything to do with a _fag_ like me!"

"HEY!" Kendall interrupted angrily. "You _know_ we all hate that word! Don't you _dare_ belittle yourself with it! You're letting them win! There's _nothing_ wrong with you. You are perfect James! It's everyone that doesn't accept you that has a problem. Why can't you see that the only people you need to care about are the ones you live with?"

"Shut UP, Kendall! You have _no_ idea what I've been going through!" James' hazel eyes darkened in rage, and he began screeching. "I thought people would be okay with my being gay, but nothing's been going right. The door at 2J, the bottles and other objects thrown at us, the time I was beaten after our show in Denver-" Kendall cringed at the memory. "Constantly having paparazzi hounding me, the torrent of name-calling, the rumors, everything! I know it shouldn't have gotten to me, but it _did_! I took a big hit, and I couldn't take it anymore!" He had started crying again. "There was just so much pain! I needed a way out! That's why I started- you know…" he trailed off, absentmindedly rubbing the underside of his forearm. "And…and- I was just so _stupid_! I'm SORRY!" He buried his face in his hands as more diamond tears flowed.

Kendall's gaze softened and he brought James in for another warm embrace. "Oh Jamie," he whispered. "You know you could've said something to us! We _all_ love you: me, Logan, Carlos, Katie, Camille, Jo, Steph, my mom, all of our parents. We're the only ones whose opinions you should care about. And we _all_ love you just the same as we always have. Nothing can change the fifteen years of friendship and brotherhood we've built." He rubbed James' tears away with his thumbs as he held his face. "Is there anything else you want to talk to me about?" he asked tenderly.

Actually, there was one thing; James had never told anybody- it wasn't something that usually came up in casual conversation. This was James' deepest secret- deeper than his sexuality and his cutting; this secret could send his friend running for the hills. Was it worth the risk? He'd never know until he tried.

"Yeah, actually, there is." James just decided he'd just try to stall as much as possibly, warm Kendall up to it. "One of the biggest things that bothered me was that I can't ever have the guy I'm in love with." _That was vague enough, right?_

But Kendall wanted to dig deeper quicker than James was ready for. "Oh, Jamie! I'm so sorry! You wanna tell me who he is? Maybe I can help…"

"Well," the brunette began, wiping his leftover tears away. It was now or never. "I'm not really one-hundred percent certain he wouldn't like me back, though. I'm just not positive if he swings that way at all…"

"Do we all know him?" Kendall probed.

"Yes."

"Is he famous?"

"Yes."

The blonde looked up to the sky in thought. "Um, what does he look like?"

James gave a small smile despite his mood. Thinking of his love did that sometimes. "He's tall, has shaggy dark blonde hair, and has the most beautiful color eyes I've ever had the pleasure of seeing…" he trailed off dreamily.

"Okay," Kendall said uncertainly. He could picture a couple people, oddly enough, but had a feeling he was missing something. "How long have you liked him?"

"Hmm…about two years, or so?" James wasn't even exactly sure, but it wasn't a _terribly_ long span of time.

"Well, how long have you known him?"

Silence. Then, "Fifteen years."

Kendall's breath left him with a _whoosh_. Was James really saying what he thought he was saying?

"M-me?"

James smiled marginally wider. "Yeah, Kenny, it's you. Whether or not this sounds creepy, you have to know that I've always had a certain soft spot for your eyes. They're my favorite color- just _that_ green. Nothing else compares."

It was like five tons of bricks had hit Kendall square in the chest. A flood of sorrow washed over him as he realized he was going to have to break his _best friend's_ heart. A solitary liquid diamond slipped from his right eye socket.

"James," he breathed. "I can't love you that way. It really does kill me to say this, but I'm straight. I'm with Jo." At this point, he saw rivers flow down his companion's cheek. Panicking, he quickly took James' face in his large hands. "Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!" He whispered calmingly. "This is hurting me _way_ more than it's hurting you. It hurts me to know that I'm the one who's doing this to you! All I want for you is to be happy; you won't be with me, because I can't love you back that way. If I could, I would. I may not be _in love_ with you, but I do know that I still _love_ you.

"James, you're my brother, my best friend. And _you_ don't know how it feels to have to watch your best friend crumble the way you have been! We all need you here- as _you_. You're the glue that's holding us together right now. What would we be without 'the face,' or with only half of the 'Hollywood Super Party Kings of Hollywood' duo? We'd be nothing, James. _Nothing_.

"So just know that no matter what you decide, I'm with you one-hundred percent." He stopped talking, taking in a shaky breath.

James looked up into Kendall's eyes and saw nothing but sincerity and protectiveness. "R-r-really?"

The blonde blinked, tears of joy this time, escaping from his eyes. "Of course! What kind of friend would I be if I didn't? That's what friends do. I'll always be here for you, Jamie." He gathered him into another bone-crushing hug. "Even though I can't be your man, I will _always_, ALWAYS be there for you. For anything and everything. You hurt, I hurt, okay?"

James buried his head into the crook of Kendall's neck; he took a deep, relaxing breath of the smell that could only be described as _Kendall_. "Thank you." His voice was tiny, but spoke measures.

They sat there for a while longer, watching the sun dip below the horizon, marring the sky with deep purples, reds, and oranges.

But finally Kendall spoke. "It'll get better, James. I promise."

James knew Kendall wouldn't lie about something like that, so for once in the past six months, he felt safe. Now that he knew the truth, he was ready to face the world and ready to happily accept that he and his bushy-eye-browed pal could only be that- _friends_.

"I know. Especially now that I know I've got you guys by my side."

Kendall grinned into James' warm brown locks and placed a brotherly kiss to his temple. "We're all you'll ever need."

"You're all I ever want. I love you, Kendall."

"Love you, too, James." He hugged the boy closer to him with every word.

"It only gets better from here."

**

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**This story was greatly inspired by the NOH8 and 'It Gets Better' campaigns. They're AMAZING! It's not just for the gays, either. It's for anyone who's been bullied, or put through hateful situations. Please check them out.**

**I really hope you enjoyed! This is dedicated to all those teens who took their lives. They lost their lives because of sick-minded, thick-headed jerks that should be in their position instead. Stuff like this CAN be prevented; please think before you speak.**

**But anyway, sorry about my rant! I'm very opinionated and this is one subject that gets me so uptight now. Xd**

**R&R please! :)**


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